


Topsy Turvy

by Geektaire



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9061855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geektaire/pseuds/Geektaire
Summary: What would happen if the things had been the other way around... of Carol Peletier had been born Carol Dixon, and Daryl Dixon had been born as Daryl Murphy?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Sira01 as her secret santa present. Hope you guys enjoy.

 

Everything started like mainstream stories usually do… there was a boy, and there was a girl. The boy impregnated the girl, and from that pregnancy a boy was born. A boy they decided to call Merle Marcus. 

 

Merle was a happy baby, the apple of his mother’s eye and his pa’s pride and joy. His father wasn’t exactly keen on the crying baby though, so he would spend his afternoons at the old watering hole -the bar- instead of at home with his wife. And everyone knew Will Dixon had a temper, a temper which , with a couple of beers in him, could easily get out of control. That’s how he lost more than one job, how he ended up being bailed out by his wife on more than one occasion, and how he ended up hitting Merle for the first time. 

 

His wife though, his wife tried to do everything she could to protect her little boy. She usually took any hits meant for little Merle as much as she could, so her husband would not touch her precious little boy. That was ... until she found out she was pregnant for the second time. Merle had been five, and he couldn’t exactly remember when he was told he was going to be a big brother. 

 

He just remembered, to this day, the moment when his mother put that little bundle in his arms. His life changed in the blink of an eye once his mother put Carol Marie Dixon on his arms for the first time. 

 

Merle wasn’t entirely sure of what would come out of having a baby sister, and as expected jealousy ran high the first couple of weeks in the Dixon household. Marie Dixon found her oldest, more than once, with the baby wrapped in a blanket and on the move. But eventually things settled, Merle learned to love his baby sister and understood what it meant to be a big brother. 

 

The first time his father yelled at the baby, telling her to shut up, was also the first time Merle ever got hit by his papa. Nothing was the same after that. His father knew he would rile up the ten year old if he tried to do anything to his baby sister, and his mother was usually too high or too drunk to really care. 

 

Merle learned how to cook, he learned how to do girls’ hair. Hell, he even pick pocketed more than once to have enough money to buy Carol the doll with the frilly dress he knew she looked longingly at, every time they walked by hand in hand from school. 

 

But he was no angel. He was a Dixon through and through, and it wasn’t long before the same problems which got their daddy into trouble came knocking on his door. He would never forgive himself, in years to come, knowing his baby sister had almost died in the house fire which had taken their mother. 

 

Carol had been studying in her room, at ten years old, while her mother drank and smoked. She had barely been able to escape, jumping from her window on the second story and breaking her leg when she landed, as the flames consumed their house and their mother with it. 

 

Nothing had been the same after that. Carol had become even more painfully shy, barely talking unless it was to Merle. Merle meanwhile just became more problematic, picking fights with his father at any chance he could. 

 

He never thought he would be thrown out on his ass when he turned eighteen. Will Dixon had had enough with his oldest after he’d come back from his latest stint at juvie. After another drunken brawl, which Merle had started, Will Dixon had thrown his son out and threatened to kill him if he came back. Merle had tried to take Carol with him, to the point where he had gotten his little sister to leave the house with him. 

 

But someone had ratted them out. They had been caught not long after, and it had been just because of Carol pleas the officers had just brought her back home, letting Merle leave, and leave he did. 

 

It took sixteen years for the siblings to see each other again. 

 

Carol had become the focus of Will Dixon’s anger just like her brother before her, and her mother before him. She became her father’s maid, at his beck and call. And when things weren’t up to his standard, she became his favorite punching bag, and never when anyone could suspect. No one could ever say Will Dixon ever mistreated his daughter. She was just the sweetest thing after all, straight A student until her father pulled her out of school when she turned sixteen. Because no Dixon had ever gone to college, so why should any daughter of his lose time in school when she could be earning money? 

 

It was working at the old diner, getting money only for her father to throw it away on alcohol, drugs and women, that she met him. Ed Peletier was a nice looking man, with a provocative smile who paid attention to mousy looking Carol Dixon. Because while Dixon men were known as brawlers and too big for their own britches, the Dixon women were nothing which would make people even remember them. 

 

And that’s where Ed took advantage. At first it was all flowers and chocolates, late night strolls and kisses under the moonlight. It was the first time ever that a man was paying attention to her and Carol was elated. She had never smiled with anyone other than Merle as much as she did during those first six months. Six months later, and after having done absolutely everything Ed had told her to, he asked her to marry him. 

 

He was sweet, he was attentive. She was kind of happy with him, or at least as happy as she had ever been. She didn’t like how he made her wear what he thought was best, not that he would tell her she was fat. But other than that, everything was fine. 

 

He didn’t hit her like her daddy did, he didn’t tell her she was useless, he didn’t do any of that. So at eighteen, Carol Dixon became Carol Peletier. At eighteen, without looking back, Carol left her father behind and moved two towns over with Ed.  They lived comfortably, small house, a few friends from Ed’s work. Things were alright. 

 

First year came and went, and yet Carol did not get pregnant. It was okay, they were young, she was eighteen and Ed was twenty eight. They had all the time in the world, right? Carol sometimes, whenever Ed did something which reminded her of her father, would wonder where her big brother, her protector was. The last thing she had known, from the few letters Merle had sent her through the years, was that he had enlisted for another tour.

 

She missed her big brother something bad. 

 

The second year of their marriage passed. She was twenty, Ed thirty. When he didn’t get that promotion he was looking forward to, he got mad. He had grabbed her hard enough to leave marks for the first time. She still did not get pregnant. 

 

During her third year was when he started drinking more often. He had always been a mean drunk, but he usually came home the next day with flowers and apologies. Now it was just him throwing her around, he would push her against the wall and just take what he wanted. It was the first time she’d considered going back to her daddy. 

 

The next few years blurred one after the other. She had tried once to go talk to her daddy, to try and find out where Merle was. But Will Dixon was an ass, and he both refused to even acknowledge the fact that his only daughter was standing right in front of him… and refused to let his son, who was staying with him and keeping both of them from starving, know that his beloved sister had come knocking. 

 

It wasn’t until a few years later, after Will had died of an overdose, that Merle had found Carol’s wedding invitation. For Will Dixon it had been like his daughter had just never existed. And after moving halfway across the state, for Merle, Merle who had come back from war not exactly in a right state of mind, it had been like halfway around the world. 

 

He had tracked down Peletier. They had been married,  _ his baby sister _ married! For six years by then. He had expected to find her surrounded by little ones, after all he had always known how much she loved little kids. What he had found had been a door slammed in his face, and the promise that his sister wanted nothing to do with her junkie older brother. 

 

It had been four more years before he saw his baby sister again. 

 

It had been a night like any other. It was summer, in an Atlanta suburb. A run down building where he was renting an apartment. His roommate? Another junkie who spent most of the day so out of his mind Merle had to nudge him once in awhile to make sure he was still alive. He was preparing to get his next fix. His elbows hurting something bad, he had after all gotten an infection on one of the sites where he injected himself. It was raining, thunder rattling the windows, when a knock suddenly was heard against his front door. 

 

Merle glared at the closed door, too tired to care about who could be behind it. “Fuck off!” He pulled out his trusted kit. He had gotten a scare a few years before, and now he made sure he kept his own things and didn’t share them with anyone. The knocking persisted. 

 

“Fuck off!”

 

He could hear a baby crying. There were no babies in his building that he knew of. Grumbling, he got to his feet. “If you think you’re going to convince me this time around that the kid is mine, Sandy, you got another thing co-”

 

It was not Sandy behind the door. For the first time in sixteen years, Merle was looking at those blue eyes so much like his. “Mouse?” Her eye was swollen shut, the pale blond hair he had brushed when they were kids was wiry and more white than it should be on a twenty eight year old. 

 

She was cradling the crying baby against her chest. There were no words needed, and with a sob, Carol threw the arm that was not holding her daughter around her brother’s waist. And she cried. She cried for all she had lost. She cried for all she had gained since she had made the decision to leave Ed. 

 

She cried because for the first time in sixteen years, she was safe. 

 

-.-.-.-

 

Daryl Murphy’s life had always been one accident after the other. From the moment he was conceived,  _ his mother had been sixteen _ , to the moment he ended up in the outside of Atlanta with the dead walking. It was just that, an accident. 

 

He had been a polite kid growing up, his single teenage mother had been kicked out of her home when she had refused to marry his father. And then it had only been the two of them against the world. Of course there had been many stepfathers in his story, some violent, some not. But none of them had ever taken the time to take care of him, and he in turn had not cared for any of them. 

 

When he was fifteen, his mother had passed away. A drunk driver, a kid barely older than him, had run a light and crashed into the side of her car. An  _ accident _ , they had called it. 

 

He had met Edith when they sent him to his last foster home. They were good folks, the last ones they’d sent him to before he aged out. And it was a good school. She was beautiful, the prettiest girl in the whole school. And by some kind of miracle, maybe even by accident, she’d looked at him and saw something worthy in him. 

 

And he had fallen, and fallen hard. He was smart, smart enough to get a scholarship for the state university. And Edith had been elated, for he had saved all his money and bought her the ring she had hinted at wanting, even though it had cost him almost as much as what a car would have. She had wanted for them to get engaged before he left for college, and so they had . 

 

That was basically the mantra for the next years of his life. He had majored in Biology, with a minor in education as per Edith’s ‘suggestion’. He didn’t want to teach, though; he wanted to go and lose himself in nature. He wanted to study migration patterns and mating habits in the middle of the Georgia woods. 

 

But his wife wanted him to teach, they needed the steady income if they wanted to start a family like he wanted. They needed the money teaching would give him so they could buy a house, a good car, a place to live. After all, he didn’t want his kids to grow up like he had- on social security and scraps. 

 

And he didn’t. He wanted his children to have the best things, he wanted them to be happy, to have both parents with them. He wanted to have his own family for once. Years passed, he saw students come and go, he saw children grow up and leave his classroom behind.

 

And yet, there was no child in the Kenley household. He had taken his wife’s name after they’d gotten married, it made sense she said, her family was old and respected. He would get more from having her last name than from keeping his… his mother’s last name, a nobody. 

 

Daryl accepted it, as he did with everything she asked. He loved her, and she loved him. That’s what couples did, didn’t they? They compromised. 

 

It was by accident, in the eighth year of their marriage, he found out everything he thought was true was in fact a lie. 

 

They had been trying for a child for the last three years, following the doctor’s orders and doing it at the best times and best positions to help the process. He had started going to the gym at Edith’s ‘suggestion’ because she had read that being fit was better, he had gotten tested, he had gone and got himself groped by strange men to try and find out for a reason why she wasn’t getting pregnant. 

 

She had told him the doctor had called and let them know it was him. He was the one who wasn’t able to give her children . He had cried that night after she had fallen asleep. All he had wanted was a wife who loved him, and a child. And to know their dreams wouldn’t come true because of him? It had broken his heart. 

 

It had been a year after that he had uncovered her lie. It was his fault, so in his head that made him responsible for making his wife happy. He had gotten a second job, at another school which ran afternoon programs. He was working more time, so they could save money for IVF, so he could surprise her with the savings which would make their dreams come true. 

 

The school had closed early that day because of a burst pipe. He had gotten home, and she hadn’t been waiting for him. And he had answered the phone. As usual for him, it had been by accident he found out his wife had been using the implant for the last three years and it was time for her to get a new one. They hadn’t been able to get pregnant not because of him, but because she was actively taking birth control. 

 

His heart had broken even more. He didn’t know what to do, who to speak with. He thought about taking off his wedding ring, and leaving it on the dresser. Leaving behind her last name, the job he hated, his life. But her words came to mind. Who would want a good for nothing man? Someone who wasn’t even able to have children? Someone who came from nothing other than a white trash mother and an absentee father? She was the best thing in his life, she was the  _ only  _ thing in his life. 

 

So he kept quiet. He kept his nine to nine job, told her about the money and watched as she used his baby money to get breast implants and a nose job. He became quiet, and she became louder. She would complain about anything and everything, if she didn’t like something, and she wouldn’t stop until he changed it for her. 

 

He dyed his hair, he used clothes that itched and he hated all the time. He drove a car which was a mile away from falling apart so she could have the latest model. 

 

He hid the scars from her nails on his arms from the few occasions he tried to put up a fight, with long sleeves and downward eyes. Passing through life, just from one accident to the next. 

 

It was because of an accident once again that his life changed. An accident in a lab somewhere, but an accident nonetheless. 

 

.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Twelve years passed from that summer’s night when Merle Dixon had opened his door, and his heart, to the two girls who had become his world. 

 

The night was a blur for both Dixon siblings. Merle had kicked out the junkie right then and there, not letting his baby sister even touch a thing before he made sure everything was clean. After he made sure there was nothing which could harm either mama or baby, they spent all night lying on his bed, the baby between them as they talked. 

 

And talk they did. No subject was left unspoken, from her heartbreak at being left behind, to his drug problems. From her marriage to the monster Ed Peletier ended up being, to how Merle had returned to their father and had been there until the very end. 

 

That night changed many things for both siblings. By Merle’s side, Carol started to recover some of the light and fire which made her a Dixon, and by Carol’s side, Merle’s empathy began to return. Merle kicked his habit away once and for all, knowing his baby sister and his little niece needed him being the main reason for him to accomplish the feat. They had a few ups and downs during the first years, especially when he had to work longer shifts and the need became too much. But he did it in the end. 

 

Sophia had grown into a little terror, a true Dixon at heart. Boisterous like her uncle, with her mother’s wicked sense of humor; but a heart of gold. Merle had needed to hide tears the first time Sophia had told her mother she wanted her Uncle to do her hair, because he knew how to do it best. The smile on both Carol and Merle’s face had been blinding. 

 

Ed Peletier had tried to contact her once. She had sent him the divorce papers, and it hadn’t taken  long for him to come knocking on their door. It had been six months from when she had walked out of the hospital when he took too long to pick her up; and things weren’t the same as back then. 

 

She had her big brother watching her back. When he tried to intimidate her— when they finally came face to face — for the first time in ten years, she didn’t back down. She informed him that he was going to sign the divorce papers, and sign away his parental rights and leave the two of them alone. A bully was a bully though, and he tried to push her around. 

 

Merle had barely gotten to his feet when his little sister had Ed Peletier on the ground with her foot at his throat. Mama bear Carol had been born the same night her baby girl had, and she was not allowing anything, or anyone, to hurt her cub. Never again. Ed Peletier never paid one cent of child support, but he left them the hell alone after that. 

 

Merle and Carol were everything little Sophia needed in life. She was a happy baby who became a happy toddler who in turn became a happy kid. The three of them moved into a house at the edge of the woods, and they would go hunting every weekend if possible. Carol had learned everything from her brother when she was Sophia’s age. And Merle taught his little niece the exact same things he had taught her mama many years before. 

 

They were happy. They worked hard, and they sacrificed a lot, but the three of them were content. Carol never gave a second look to a man, and Merle kept his conquests away from their family. Life was good for the Dixons for once. 

 

Of course, it was then when the world fell apart. 

 

-.-.-.-

 

“They look like a bunch of pussies…” Carol Dixon glared down at her daughter, who was standing between her and her brother, looking down at the camp they had found. 

 

The dead had started walking, Atlanta had fallen, and they had barely had enough time to get their bikes and camping gear onto the back of Merle’s truck before everything fell apart. 

 

Sophia looked up, squinting as the sun hit her in the face, knowing her mother would not be happy with her language. “Uncle Merle said it first.”

 

“You just had to throw me under the bus, didn’t you, squirrel?” Sophia smiled as her uncle ruffled her short hair. “And they do, ya realize that, mouse, don’t ya?”

 

Carol sighed as she nodded at her brother. The group was big, too big to properly secure, and most of the people there looked like they had no idea of what they were doing, but they needed people. They had seen what those things could do, and she and Merle had decided the best thing, the best opportunity they had to keep Sophia safe was to find more people. 

 

Even if they were a bunch of pussies. 

 

“You ready?” Merle asked Carol as he pushed the strap of his hunting rifle higher up his shoulder. Carol nodded, making sure she had her compound bow secured at her back. Sophia, her brave Sophia, sneaked her little hand into hers as they started to walk out of the woods and closer to the new people. Like her, her little girl wasn’t exactly fond of new people. 

 

“Whoa, whoa there, little piggy…” Merle raised his hands as the man wearing the police force cap drew a gun on him, “no need to do that, we come in peace.” Carol glared at her brother’s back; now was not the moment for the trademarked Merle Dixon sense of humor. Merle was partially standing in front of the two of them, but she could see the people which made up the group more clearly. 

 

She noticed there were a few men scattered around, pointing their guns at them. But what she noticed the most were the ones who weren’t. There was an Asian kid who looked more scared of Merle than anything else, an older man standing on top of the RV who was more concerned about her and Sophia than her brother. There were three blond women together, one looking like one of those women on the magazines Merle used to collect when they were kids, some other people around... and then there was  _ him _ . 

 

He was standing by the table where they had seen the children gathered around earlier that day. He had dirty blond hair, a little facial hair and was wearing a long sleeved button up perfectly pressed even under the circumstances they were under. What made her notice was the fact that the first thing he had done was put himself between them and the children he had been teaching, he had no weapon of his own; but he was standing defiantly between danger and his kids. 

 

That called to her. 

 

Her eyes met his over Merle’s shoulder for less than a second, before he looked away, turning to usher the kids back to their parents. His eyes were as blue as the water down at the quarry lake .   

 

In the end they had stayed. Merle had sweet talked his way into the ‘leader’s’ good graces — a man by the name of Shane — and they had been welcomed to the group. They had met Shane, and his ‘friend’ Lori and her son Carl. The Morales family, Andrea and Amy, Dale and Glenn. Carol had made quick friends with T-Dog over their shared weird sense of humor. Merle had weirdly become pals with Dale. And Sophia had been invited to join the teacher’s class. 

 

His name was Daryl. 

-.-.-.-.

 

“Daryl, are you even listening to me?” Daryl shook his head, trying to get his mind back to what he was doing before his wife had started yet another scene because of something she hadn’t liked. 

 

“Yes, dear,” he said softly as he made sure the inside of their tent was clean and everything was in its proper  place. They had been on their way towards Atlanta when they had gotten stuck in the middle of a traffic jam. Edith had gone to see what was going on while he waited for her back in the truck. 

 

It was a coincidence they had ended up next to one of his former students, or technically one of his future former students. Carl Grimes was a bright little boy who he had met on a couple of occasions, but who he hadn’t had the luck to actually teach yet. He had covered for one of his teachers the year before, and apparently he had made such an impression on the boy he had called him over as soon as he saw him on the road. 

 

That might have ended up being yet another  _ accident _ which changed his life. They had ended up being invited by the Grimes family to join them, which was how he and Edith had come to be at the quarry. 

 

“Daryl, I’m not going to say it again, you know I hate to repeat myself; give me my sunscreen, NOW!” Daryl sighed softly, hurrying to search for the damned thing his wife needed. Edith had not changed much since the dead had started walking; she was still waiting for him to be at her beck and call, still having him do everything for her… she was still being her usual self. 

 

Daryl knew how the other men looked at him, he had said it was because he had never been close to a gun in his life; that he was really clumsy, and didn’t want anything to do with them. The truth was he was terrified, so he did what he usually did. He did as Edith told him to. 

 

He was a teacher, so he taught. He organized some kind of schooling for the kids in their camp, to try and keep some kind of normalcy in the middle of the current shit storm. He helped the women with the laundry, after all they needed someone to take those heavy baskets down to the lake, and someone to help them wring those clothes so they could dry faster. 

 

It was a day like any other when  _ they _ came along. He had been minding his own business — Edith had been talking with Amy and Andrea about some show the three of them used to watch on the television while he taught the kiddies — when the three of them arrived at the camp. 

 

His eyes met hers by  _ accident _ that afternoon…. But was it really an accident?

 

Her eyes were blue like the sky, her hair short and silver in the bright sunlight . She looked confident, a friendly smile on her face as she rolled her eyes at her brother’s bad jokes as they sat around the fire later that night. And he couldn’t help but look. 

 

And their eyes accidentally met, once again. 

 

.-.-.-.-.-

 

Merle had never seen his sister like this. Her eyes seemed to follow that pussy good for nothing teacher whenever she thought no one was looking, and Merle was half amused, half horrified by what he saw. His mouse had never even looked twice at any men since she had left her useless sperm donor all those years ago, and now? In the middle of the fucking apocalypse she decided to like the worst person possible? The guy who looked like he just needed a pair of glasses to look like one of those nerds from the movies Sophia liked? The one guy in the whole camp who was probably closer to getting eaten than any other?

 

At least he was a good man, of that Merle had no doubts. A man who was terrified of even his shadow it seemed, but a good one nonetheless. 

 

“Gopher!” Merle yelled for Daryl using the nickname he had given him, not making a big deal of the fact that the man had basically jumped out of his skin at the mere sound of his voice. “You’re going with me to hunt, let’s go.”

 

“I can’t, I need to-”

 

“Ya need to wash your bloody wife’s panties or some shit like that, no! Ya have to go help me get us some meat, now, boy!” Merle hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than the man in front of him, the man who was looking down, and although not outright cowering was definitely terrified at being yelled at. 

 

“Merle Marcus Dixon, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” 

 

Merle  cowered at her tone of voice. When Merle looked at Carol she looked like she was going to chop off his nuts, and if there was something Merle wasn’t, it was stupid. Merle raised his hands as he moved away from the still silent teacher, walking away as his sister slowed her steps until she was in front of Daryl. 

 

Merle observed as his sister said something softly to the other man, too softly for him to hear. Daryl was still not looking up, but he seemed less tense, he looked less like he wanted to disappear and Merle could see the small things someone else wouldn’t notice. Daryl kept stealing small looks at his sister, he did not linger, and he did it while chewing on the side of his thumb… but still. 

 

By the time Carol walked away Daryl was standing tall once more, though he was still not meeting her eyes, but he had looked at Merle and gave him a nod. “He’s going with you tomorrow, stop being an asshole and don’t yell at him.”

 

“Why? He needs to man up!” Merle huffed in exasperation as he walked beside his sister back to their camp. 

 

“Did you just say that? Marcus?” Merle winced at the use of his middle name.

 

“Ya know what I mean; he needs to stop being a pussy.”

 

“That ‘pussy’ has been under his wife’s wrath for the better part of his life, that ‘pussy’ has scars on his back and arms to rival ours, so stop making his life any harder!” Merle looked down as she hissed her words at him, the need to pull his sister into his arms and not let anyone touch her was strong. But he knew better. 

 

“I know…” Merle’s eyes met his sisters, and in hers he found his answer. “I’m trying to get him away from the harpy…” Merle made a face at the mention of the woman, “trying to teach him to survive, mouse. You want him to survive, and you know whatever my baby sister wants, she gets.” The last part was muttered against her forehead as he leaned over and gave her a small kiss. 

 

Merle Dixon might be a lot of things, a veteran of war, an addict, an asshole… but the one thing he wasn’t was a bad brother. And if his baby sister had her eyes set on that man, the least Merle could do was get him ready to withstand the hurricane that was Carol Marie Dixon.  

 

-.-.-.

 

Daryl had no idea what had prompted Merle Dixon to basically drag him from the camp as soon as the sun was out. He had been making Edith’s coffee when the man had come over and taken him away. 

 

Now it was a couple of hours later, he was tired, panting as they walked up yet another hill, and sweating like crazy as he had kept his shirt still perfectly buttoned up and inside his pants. 

 

“Are you going to pass out on me, gopher?” Merle asked smirking as he took a long sip from the canteen before carelessly wiping his mouth before offering it for Daryl to drink. 

 

“Nah-” Daryl took a deep drink, “I’m just sweating like a pig.” It was true, his shirt was dark and he was also clearly wearing an undershirt under that.  

 

“Get rid of it,” Merle muttered making a face as he looked at Daryl up and down, his shirt that day was black. 

 

“Edith would kill me,” Daryl muttered as he moved to walk past Merle, grunting when the older man put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. 

 

“Fuck her, Gopher, ya don’t have to do whatever that bitch tells ya to.”

 

“I do, she’s my wife.” The way he said it made Merle’s blood boil—  like it was such a matter of fact— and it reminded him of something Carol once had told him. It reminded him of how his sister had explained to him how she had just gotten used to the hate, to the pain… that it had become so ingrained into her everyday life that it just was. 

 

“Daryl-” Daryl stopped, turning to look at Merle with a frown on his face. The man had never called him anything but ‘Gopher’ since they had met almost a week before, “ya really don’t have ta.”

 

Merle just walked past him. They didn’t speak another word to each other for the rest of the hunt. 

 

-.-.-.

 

“Daryl! Where did you go? My coffee wasn’t there when I woke up!” 

 

“Sorry, Edith,” Daryl muttered as he walked past her, towards where Lori and the children were waiting for him so he could start his lecture. 

 

“ _ Sorry _ is not going to make it better, Daryl!” Edith had grabbed his arm as he was about to walk past, and he couldn’t help but lower his head as she sneaked her other hand to his side. He knew that part of the reason why she filed her nails all of the time was to keep them sharp enough to draw blood, and drawing blood they were. “You know what you’re suppose to be doing, I’m almost out of sunblock and I’m almost out of coffee… I won’t accept that.”

 

“Yes, Edith.” He felt like shit, he could feel the eyes of the entire camp on them and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. He had seen some of the women, and how some even had praised Edith on being able to get her husband to do her bidding… he had seen the looks he got from the men, looking at him like he was less than dirt for allowing it. 

 

“Oh my God, you’re such a bitch!” The sound of a child’s voice next to them made Daryl jerk suddenly, causing Edith’s nails to bite deeper into his side making him bleed for sure. He was glad he was wearing black at least. He turned to look at the voice, and was met with the defiant blue eyes of Sophia Dixon. 

 

Sophia Dixon who only had eyes for Edith. 

 

“What did you just call me, little girl?” Edith had yet to let go of Daryl’s arm, not caring about that and turning to look at Sophia, causing Daryl to turn if he wanted to keep her from twisting his arm and bruising it even worse. 

 

“I called you a bitch, and that’s only because my mother would make me wash my mouth with soap if I called you the c word… even if you do deserve it.”

 

“What?” 

 

“I’m not allowed to call you the ‘C’ word even if you are one, because my mom will wash my mouth with soap if I do…” Sophia took a step closer to Edith, “so you’re both a bitch and a dumbass… well… that’s new.”

 

“You little monster!” That was when Edith made her biggest mistake… she tried to hit a child in front of Daryl. Edith’s good hand was the one she had been using to basically claw Daryl’s side, so the moment he saw her start to raise it, he knew what she was about to do. And he couldn’t let her. 

 

Sophia’s eyes went as big as plates as she saw the older woman’s hand start going down to her. As mouthy as she was, her mother and uncle had always made sure she had stayed away from violence… especially the type of violence they had grown up around. So she had never thought an adult would slap a child. 

 

But Edith didn’t get a chance. 

 

“Stop it!” Daryl hissed against Edith’s ear as he shook with adrenaline and anger as his hand wrapped even more tightly around Edith’s wrist. She was looking at him like he had grown another head, and to be honest he felt like he had. As soon as he saw that Sophia had run away, he dropped her hand… his hands shaking as he looked away from her.

 

“Daryl!” The resounding slap was heard around the camp, and Daryl even tasted blood from where one of his pointy canine teeth had broken the skin inside his cheek. He didn’t care though; she had not touched that child. 

 

Edith had stayed inside their tent that night, avoiding everyone after she had yet again slapped him and clawed him when he asked if they were joining them. Apparently, he had embarrassed her in front of everybody by not putting that ‘little bitch’ in her place. 

 

For the first time in a long time, Daryl had left Edith behind. Her screeches could still be heard as he walked towards the fire. But the smile he got from both Sophia and Carol as Carol passed him his dinner were well worth it. 

 

Even Merle had given him a nod as he sat beside him. 

 

He was dreading going back there, back to his wife. But at least for half an hour he was part of the group as Merle recounted their hunting adventure of that morning, making it to be a lot more interesting that it had actually been… and for a little while, he was almost happy. 

 

-.-.-.

 

Things happened really fast after that. Every morning, Merle would get Daryl and take him hunting with him. They would work on tracking, with Daryl even teaching Merle a thing of two, and then he would teach him how to use a knife to defend himself. 

 

And when Daryl would get back, he would get yelled at, and then he would continue with his duties. He would teach the kids, he would help the ladies and he would avoid his wife. And at the end of the day? At the end of the day he would get a plate from Carol, together with a smile, and sit around the fire with Merle at his side and Sophia at the other… and he would feel at home for the first time in forever. 

 

Edith didn’t take things lying down; she fought him tooth and nail. Sometimes literally. He would see the concern in Carol’s eyes every morning when he would arrive with a slightly swollen cheek, or a split lip. But as the two of them shared a cup of tea over the fire as he waited for Merle, neither of them touched the subject. But the best part of his days was when he was with the Dixons, and away from his wife. 

 

And that helped him realize it wasn’t love which kept him with Edith. It might be many things, but it was not love. Love was the way Sophia smiled at her mother, love was the way Carol teased Merle mercilessly, love was Merle picking up herbs he knew would make his sister’s stomach settle down. Love was a smile over a plate during dinner. 

 

-.-.-.

 

The run had seemed like any other run they had done so far. Glenn had agreed to take a small group with them, and since the Dixons were in need of some things Merle had said he would join them. Daryl had wanted to offer himself in his place, but he froze at the last minute. 

 

So Merle had left. Carol had taken Merle’s place and had taken him out hunting. Hunting with Carol was different than hunting with Merle for sure. For one he wasn’t attracted to Merle, as much conflict as being attracted to Carol caused him. She was a beautiful woman, probably a couple of years older than him, but she was definitely the most gorgeous women he had ever been around. 

 

He caught absolutely nothing that day, other than her eyes on more than one occasion, causing him to blush from head to toe. He was married, for fucks sake! The fact that his wife was a harpy and made his life a living hell did not make it right for him to be thinking about another woman. It wasn’t like he could even do anything, or that she would even want him to do anything. She was strong, she was capable of surviving in this world, she was everything he had always wanted to be. 

 

The look on Edith’s face when they came back from the woods, him in his tank top with a deer over his shoulders, was one of the best things he had seen in his entire life. Carol’s and Sophia’s face a few hours later when the group came back without Merle was probably the worst. 

 

He had been the one to suggest they go for Merle at first light. Carol had still been yelling at the newcomer, as Sophia tried to keep her tears at bay as the news sunk in. Daryl couldn’t take it, he couldn’t see two of the people who had become so important to him that sad. He had hugged Sophia to him, and he had said his piece. Carol had smiled at him, he knew she couldn’t leave Sophia, so he would go in her stead. 

 

They would go at first light. Rick had left Merle handcuffed to a pipe, on the roof and T-Dog had chained the door shut. They had left Merle tools, water and food. Daryl just hoped it was enough. 

 

Edith hadn’t been happy. She had pounced on him as soon as he went into his tent, scratching, hitting and biting. And Daryl had just been so tired, so tired of the abuse, so tired of being treated like a punching bag, so tired of being a second hand citizen. He had pushed her probably more forcefully than he should have, he had grabbed what he could and he had left his tent. And unknowingly he had left Edith behind for good. The next time he would see her, she would be a corpse in need of burying. 

 

“Can’t sleep?” Daryl looked up to see Carol standing beside him, smiling softly down at him. It wasn’t until after he took his things that Daryl realized he had nowhere to go. The only difference from before the world went to hell was that it wasn’t like he could go far, or needed much. 

 

“Can I?” Carol asked softly as she sat beside Daryl, pointing at his face. Daryl nodded, wincing as her hand softly touched the side of his face where he knew Edith had scratched the deepest. “They might scar.”

 

Daryl shrugged, looking at the dying embers to keep himself from doing something stupid. Something stupid like saying something to her. 

 

“I never told you,” Carol’s voice was barely above a whisper, but he could hear her perfectly in the silence of the night. “But…” she didn’t say anything else, instead she moved to give him her bag, and raised her shirt a couple of inches. Enough to show him her lower back, her lower back which was marred with ugly raised scars. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He surprised himself when he realized he had said something. 

 

“Not your fault,” Carol said as she turned back towards the fire, giving him the chance of not making eye contact. “We know that not all monsters are walking dead.”

 

Daryl nodded and comfortable silence reigned between them. Without noticing, he had moved close enough that their knees were barely touching.

“Come back to us, both of you,” were Carol words for him as she gave him her knife just as he was about to leave with Rick. A soft kiss on his cheek was his send off, and with a racing heart, Daryl went off to get his friend back. 

 

-.-.-.

 

For a couple of hours Merle thought he was going to die and turn into one of those things. The day had started fine, they had been half way through their raid when that asshole with the hat had caused all the ruckus which made the dead trap them inside the shop. 

 

He had panicked, he had gotten mad thinking that asshole might cost him going back to his family. So he had hit him, and he had gotten handcuffed to a pipe for of his efforts. Everything had gone to shit after that, the key was lost and they hadn’t had time to get him out before they’d had to run. 

 

The dead had been banging against the door all night, the opening small enough he could hear them but not large enough for them to squeeze through. If they had been able, he would have been toast for sure. He was seriously considering doing something drastic. The water and food they had left him long gone by almost noon of the next day. 

 

He could hear noises coming from behind the dead ones, he saw the door begin to open and he looked at the sky. He asked for forgiveness to the God he had stopped believing in when his mama had died, he asked him to look after his girls, to keep them safe…

 

“Merle?”

 

Merle opened his eyes, eyes he hadn’t realized he had closed, to look up at the nervous face of Daryl. “Gopher?!” 

 

“You’re such an asshole,” Daryl said as he moved to cut the chain which kept Merle handcuffed to the pipe. 

 

“Am I dreaming?” Merle muttered as he took the hand Daryl was offering to help him up. 

 

“Good to know you dream of me, fucker…” 

 

The bark of laughter which left Merle was definitely a surprise to Daryl. Merle shook his head, pulling the other man into a quick hug. “Ya look like shit, did you get into a fight with a fucking tiger?” 

 

Daryl grimaced, jerking away as Merle grabbed his chin to get a better look at the scratches. “My ex-wife.”

 

“Aren’t you full of surprises, gopher? Full of surprises!” 

 

Daryl couldn’t help but chuckle as Merle threw an arm around his shoulders and started to walk them towards were Rick and T-Dog were waiting at the door. Daryl did look like shit, splattered with walker guts and scratched all over. 

 

But he looked freer. 

 

They had gotten the weapons, met some unsavory characters who turned out not to have been that unsavory (one of them had been an old student of Daryl’s to everyone’s surprise). And they were finally on their way back to the quarry. Back to their girls. 

 

They were close when they all heard the first shots. It was pandemonium when they got to the camp, the dead were everywhere and Merle just killed one after the other as he tried to find his family. Daryl kept close to Merle, covering his back with his knife as he walked through camp. 

 

Both men almost cried in relief when they found Carol and Sophia on the bed of their truck shooting walkers. As soon as things calmed down, Merle grabbed his squirrel into a hug, pulling Carol into it as well. 

 

Daryl didn’t realize that Edith wasn’t among the living until the next morning. She had been in her tent, as usual, and she had been one of the first to go. Merle had made sure none of the dead would rise again, and Daryl had watched as Merle slammed a sledgehammer into his former wife’s head. 

 

And he felt nothing. He felt nothing as he helped put her in her grave, he felt nothing as he watched them throw dirt on top of her. He felt nothing as he stood there at her grave long after everyone had gone back to get ready to leave. 

 

He didn’t feel a thing until a small hand entwined her fingers with his. Carol rested her head against his shoulder as she stood by him in front of his ex-wife’s grave. 

 

“She was wrong, you know?” said Carol, and Daryl finally looked away from the freshly dug grave to look at her. “She said earlier today that she was everything you had, that you were nothing without her…” Carol smiled up at him softly. “She was wrong.”

 

“I have nothing.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

 

“You have us.” Carol started to walk back towards the camp, pulling Daryl along. “Come on, Gopher, we need to get our shit together.”

 

“Pffttt,” Daryl hurried so she was not pulling him anymore. “I hate that nickname, I wasn’t ever an office worker.”

 

“Daryl…” Carol stopped, the smile on her face widening, “it’s not because of that.” At his confused face she chuckled. “Squirrel…” Carol pointed to where Sophia was standing and watching as Merle checked their bikes. “Mouse…” she pointed at herself, before she moved her hand to undo his top two buttons. “Gopher.”

 

Daryl hadn’t been a Murphy in a long time, he had been a Kenley for too long… maybe being a Dixon would finally suit him. Daryl Dixon did have a good ring to it. 


End file.
